InBetweenSides
by Kaoru.and.Hikaru
Summary: Before Kiri returned, before they were a couple, Narumi and Kiri experienced the insecurities and awkwards of a first love. These are the untold stories. NarumixKiri


Narumi stepped out of the bathroom with a towel over his head and his boxers on. He viciously rubbed the towel over his hair, ridding it of as much water as he could. He knew he couldn't sleep with his hair wet, that would be hair suicide. Beauticians know what happens when you sleep with your hair wet, and no top-of-the-game beautician would be caught dead with Wet Head. _Ever._

He figured he had twenty or so minutes of air drying until he could sleep. He made his way over to his desk discarding the damp towel in the hamper on the way. With absolutely no idea what he could do for twenty minutes, Narumi pulled out a paper and began to sketch. His model had a delicate, triangle-shaped face with bangs that hung past her brows. Her smile was pleasant, but it seemed out of place. He kept it anyway. Her eyes were intense, staring at him as if she could really see him from the page.

It wasn't until after he was almost done sketching out her hair that he realized he had drawn Kiri. He stared at the picture and felt a little lonely. It had been five months since she left for LA, and if he were completely honest with himself, he'd say that he missed her. He missed her so desperately that it hurt; terribly ached right under his left clavicle when someone in the SP brought up an event she was involved in. What was even worse was when he felt the stabbing pain every time he remembered the day she left, and all of the things he could have said, but didn't.

He picked up his phone flipped it open, revealing a picture of her. She had sent it to him when they finished unpacking their new shop. She had taken it herself, holding Shampoo to her chest with her right hand and her camera in her left. She looked happy, and he would have thought she was done with the SP—with him—if it weren't for the short message that came after the picture: "I miss you."

Regrettably, being the idiot he was, he got so embarrassed by this picture-message combo that he text her back a freak out asking why she would send a picture and such. She hasn't sent him another. He felt terribly stupid, and he was sure that he messed everything up. He could text her and apologize explaining that the thing that he sucks most at in this world would be girls, and he knew she would understand. But apologizing was so out-of-character for him, not to mention he would sound a little pathetic, and he's not sure he could take it if she thought him a loser.

He started adding shading to the picture he had drawn, accenting her cute nose and soft lips. He added definition to the eyes making them almost life-like. He added highlights and shadows to her hair, and when he was all done with this, the picture looked like the rough sketch for a painting. It looked good. He knew it did, and with an idea forming in his head, he grabbed his phone before he could talk himself out of it.

He held the picture next to him and snapped a picture with his phone. And, before he could think better of it, he typed a short "Good morning, Mussy Head" making sure to keep the time change in mind. He sent it off before he could stop himself. Now that the deed was done and he was sitting alone in his quiet room, he began to mentally kick himself.

He was sure that was the stupidest thing he had ever done. He couldn't figure why he even _thought _that was ever a good idea. He freaked himself out with thoughts like_ she's going to think I'm some kind of stupid asshole!_ or _Her response. Oh God, what'll her response be?_. He decided not to wait and find out. He started walking to his bed, stopping to pick up his phone (he couldn't resist). He set his phone down on his nightstand and pulled the covers up over his head when it started vibrating.

Should he look at it? Should he leave it alone? What does it say? All these questions were flying around his head faster than he could think about them. Against his better judgment, he picked up the phone and flipped it open.

All of the awful scenarios were instantly dispelled when he saw the message. There she was, his Mussy Head, his Kiri, sitting at her desk in her flannel pajamas (with little white and black cats on them, she looked really adorable). The message read: "Good night, Naru-naru". She was looking at the camera smiling pleasantly like in the picture he drew; only her eyes were different. Instead of intense, her eyes were soft, filled with a kind of emotion that made Narumi feel warm all over. He knew that unconsciously he had displayed that same emotion in the picture he had sent her. She held a piece of binder paper over the left side of her chest. In red, chisel-tip sharpie, a heart was drawn with the words "Genius-san" written in the middle. It was a simple picture, probably taken less than a minute to make, but to Narumi, it meant everything.

He felt content, all his previous inhibitions released. She was still his and she still cared, that's all that mattered right now. He never thought a girl could ever make him feel this sort of emotional rollercoaster, and somewhere, in the back of his mind, he realized that he, the Untouchable Narumi, had been insecure for the first time in his life. And he was okay with it, as long as it was her who made him feel like that.

He clicked off his lamp and closed his phone, only for it to buzz again. It was Kiri. He flipped it open, blushing madly once he read the message.

"You do realize you were shirtless in that picture, right?"


End file.
